


Hold your Hand Close to Mine

by quailbirdbb



Category: Badboyhalo, Minecraft (Video Game), Skeppy
Genre: Adventure, HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS, Heterosexual relationships, M/M, Minecraft, Skeppy fandom, Skeppy is baby, This mostly follows BBH’s POV, Video Game, YouTube, at least in the beginning, minecraft youtubers - Freeform, no sexual themes though, some violence, the embodiment of what if I put my Minecraft bed next to yours, we die like men time to get emotional
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24124180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quailbirdbb/pseuds/quailbirdbb
Summary: "...and wear my halo when we say goodbye.".•.•.•.•.•.•.Birth is a gift. Gentle hands keep us together and we trust our head and heart to guide us. Birth is beautiful. Deep red sunsets tell us goodnight and the arrival of stars spark in our eyes.But birth is dangerous, and birth is fragile.Because with birth comes death, and with death comes nothing.Bad knew this from the start: if you lack you die. The only problem is his kindness, and an awfully-persistent memer who self-proclaimed himself as Bad's new travel partner..•.•.•.•.•.•.Every century, Minecraftians are born. A group of survivors spawn in the world with no guidance but the map in their hands and the instincts in their head:Get wood; make tools; survive the night.Teaming? On. Griefing? On. Pvp? On.The meaning of birth is a mystery. Anyone can give a reason but none can confirm. Perhaps it's for power, or discovery, or even to search for a single hand to hold.—•.•.•.•—Can also be found on Wattpad <3
Relationships: BadBoyHalo & A6d, BadBoyHalo/Skeppy, Skeppy & a6d, but BBH and skep is main
Comments: 21
Kudos: 108





	Hold your Hand Close to Mine

**—•.•.•—**

**In loving memory of Lucia Pumaras and Melda Pumaras, and a special dedication to a dear friend for supporting me.**

**Happy Mother's Day.**

**—•.•.•—**

Never doubt the power of a single sentence.

A single sentence can create a whole life; and a single sentence can kill it.  
  


BadBoyHalo has joined the game.

Birth was confusing to understand at this time. Why was he born? Why did he spawn? What was he supposed to do here?

Nothing would be answered right now. There was no one to answer it for him.

BadBoyHalo stood underneath the large dark oaks, thick shadows overcasting the ground below. Sunlight gleamed from the leaves's edges. They never quite reached him, though.

His fingers fiddled with a piece of paper. It was already in his hands, but he didn't remember how he had gotten it.

But BadBoyHalo unfolded the paper anyways. It was blank. All there was was the worn edges and the slightly yellow tint.

And then a dash of green color sprang on the surface. A white tick mark stood in the center of the little blotch of color, and as BadBoyHalo turned so did that mark.

So the tick mark was him, then. Maybe. But the rest of the map was blank. Save for the other colored tick marks that reached into the far, far edges of the map.

Many more places to go.

Get wood; make tools; survive the night.

The dark oak wood was strong and sturdy under his hand. The rough surface threatened to tear at the cloth of his gloves, so he backed away quickly.

How was he to gather wood without tools? And if he didn't have wood, how was he to make tools?

He ran into something as he moved backwards. On the ground, a backpack lay. It must've been his— probably. He was the only person around anyways.

Quickly, he tucked the map inside and swung it over his shoulder, nodding to himself as if proud he was getting somewhere.

"Moooo!"

BadBoyHalo jumped. A cow stared at him with beady eyes.

"Hi." BadBoyHalo blurted out dumbly. The cow flicked its ears, giving the player no response— obviously— and dipping down to graze on the grass. BadBoyHalo gazed at the animal thoughtfully.

Cows meant food, right? He could eat this cow. It would give him beef.

'But what would he kill it with?' He wondered, his hand clenching into a tight fist. Taking it down with his fists seemed a bit too morbid for him.

So, in the end, BadBoyHalo left the cow alone, giving it a timid pat on its side as he passed.

The sun was up high. More and more precious sunlight leaked between the clustered dark oak leaves at this time. Nighttime would be worst than this, surely. BadBoyHalo would have to seek shelter before sundown.

His stomach growled.

Before that, though, he needed to find some food.

He couldn't kill a cow— or any other animal for that matter. Still, fruit and vegetables existed and it would be impossible not to find any.

Right?

But the forest was thick and the trees had no apples (none that he could see, anyways). And there was no way BadBoyHalo could trust the bright mushrooms.

He had lots of time before night.

Something hissed from the shadows. A pair of broad red eyes peered at him from the tree's overgrowth.

BadBoyHalo froze up. Six more tiny red eyes popped up in the darkness, and out came an eight-legged fuzzy beast the size of a dog.

"You're terrifying." He said.

He backed away from the monster. It didn't seem to be very aggressive. To BadBoyHalo, it seemed more confused than anything.

"You're not gonna kill me, are you?"

The spider hissed. Its pinchers shifted as it cocked its head towards the player.

BadBoyHalo relaxed, albeit only slightly. The spider didn't want to hurt him. It only scuttled forward, glancing around as if lost.

He ushered the spider towards him. "You're my new friend. I'll call you Sir Hissy."

The spider only hissed in response.

•.•.•.•.•

The fur on the spider was prickly and coarse as he touched it. It wasn't very pleasant, so BadBoyHalo decided to keep his distance as the day continued. He also found that he couldn't gather any stone without tools— but dirt worked just as well as any other building block.

"A dirt house!" BadBoyHalo announced. His hands found a place at his hips, looking down at his monster companion. "What'da think, Sir Hissy?"

It was a simple base. A five-by-five: cramped between the dark oak trees, but enough to keep them safe until night passed.

"You have to break two blocks to get in and place them back, but it's safe! I'll even poke out a hole in the roof so we can breathe."

Sir Hissy didn't seem too impressed. It stuck its flat face up against the dirt, its pinchers shifting. Smelling? Did spiders smell?

BadBoyHalo leaned in curiously. The monster didn't have a nose. Maybe they were really really tiny.

Sir Hissy snapped at him— a warning— and the player jolted back.

Maybe staying the night with this mob wasn't such a good idea... but BadBoyHalo had already befriended it. Backing out now would guilt him later.

"Okay." BadBoyHalo said. He removed two of the dirt blocks, motioning Sir Hissy inside. "Let's go. Chop chop. Sun's going down, and who knows what might come out."

Sir Hissy looked at him with all its who-knows-how-many eyes. It hissed— but it sounded strangely like a taunting noise.

In the end, the player had to push the stubborn spider inside.

There was a garbled groan.

BadBoyHalo froze up. He backed up slowly into the base, but paused at the entrance.

What was that? A person like him? Had they been hurt?

There it was again: a deep guttural sound coming from the darkened forest around him. It was impossible to pinpoint.

'You don't want to know where it is," a voice said in his head.

That was the truth. It was, after all, nighttime— dangerous things lurk here, and some might-so-happen to be human-like.

Probably.

So the player moved back to his makeshift shelter, already shrugging the bag off his shoulder for some dirt.

Hissss

BadBoyHalo stumbled away. He lashed his half-opened bag across something's face, but the flash of white was too blinding.

He couldn't understand what happened. His back slammed into the tree. Just like that, his first wave of pain cut through his heart.

He heard nothing but the ringing in his hears. Fuzzy spots dotted at his vision.

And then his senses slammed back.

"w— oh— aaAHHHH!"

The player crashed down into a crater in the ground (which he swore wasn't there before). He groaned, pushing himself up.

What was that?

He had no time to process that question. Grubby hands pulled harshly on his cape, pulling him back. The yell on his lips cut to silence.

Against the moonlight, a human face peered down at him with blackened eyes. He— it smelled like an earthy soil, something rotten decaying inside it; as if it hadn't been buried properly.

Or as if it hadn't been buried at all.

BadBoyHalo blinked furiously. His heart dropped to his stomach.

Those stained teeth were too close to his throat.

He shoved against the monster. Animalistic growls bubbled unpleasantly in his ears, and his hand went up to slam its jaw closed. A slimy substance slicked his gloves— something he hoped was a bit more kid-friendly than what he thought it was.

But those callused, decaying hands held on even tighter, digging stubby nails into the player's shoulder.

BadBoyHalo twisted, flinging it off as hard as he could. He was pulled along with the monster.

Together they crashed into a ditch of water.

Did he know how to swim? He wouldn't have the opportunity to find out right now. BadBoyHalo was dragged down by the zombie— which didn't seem to be effected by the lack of air(what the heck).

His chest got tighter and tighter. He didn't have a chance to take the breath he needed.

His legs kicked out once— then twice— then as his lungs screamed out the zombie gave up on its grip.

BadBoyHalo sputtered out, scrambling up onto the forest floor. We wouldn't wait to see if zombies could swim. He dived into the base's cover (which he should've done in the first place) and there he could finally catch his breath.

Bright red eyes flashed.

His spider companion lunged at him from the other side of the shelter.

"You can't be serious!"

BadBoyHalo stopped the spider with his foot, just barely. His chest heaved up and down.

"I can't— not you, too. Please—."

Its eight legs scuttled around his foot. The player screamed out, waving around furiously, trying to shake the spider off. The spider sprung up to his back. It hissed promises of death in his ear so loudly that he couldn't listen anymore.

BadBoyHalo rammed back into the wall. The monster spat out cries. He did it again and again and again.

And then the spider dropped to the ground. BadBoyHalo almost cried in relief, pressing against the far corner of the shelter, recollecting himself.

The spider flittered away in a rising puff of white smoke. Nothing that could've hinted to Sir Hissy's existence was left behind, except the memory in BadBoyHalo's head and the bruises left on his skin.

The player pulled his knees tightly to his chest. He could not sleep knowing about the monsters close by.

He could not sleep knowing what he had just escaped.

The lunar light spilled in from the small hole on the roof, reaching into the base but stopping just at his toes. It wouldn't reach him tonight.

Trembling hands covered the hole with the little bit of dirt he had left. He wasn't scared— definitely not. His wet clothing just hugged him too uncomfortably during this cold night.

The shelter was left in darkness. His eyes would not adjust to this light.

It wasn't the lack of light that he was scared of.

Quietly, he begged for anyone to tell him why he was here.


End file.
